Hello, Disease
by Infinity Blue
Summary: We all know that after Roger fled, Mimi ran off and was later found by Joanne and Maureen. But what happened in between all of that? I apologize if this story doesn't live up to my last one. Reviews would be appriciated.
1. Goodbye, Love

"I just came to say goodbye," I stuttered, looking up into Roger's pained eyes.  
  
"Mimi-"  
  
"You don't want baggage without lifetime guarantees?" I whispered with tears in my eyes. "You don't want to watch me die?"  
  
Roger stared down at me, as he was a good foot taller. I pressed my hand against the leather material of his jacket.  
  
"Goodbye, Love." I choked.  
  
Roger caressed my cheek and clutched my hand tightly.  
  
"Glory." he mumbled, "I have to find."  
  
And with that he stumbled out of the apartment.  
  
I stared at the spot that he had been just a second ago, my hands shaking.  
  
I felt a hand on my shoulder. Benny.  
  
"Please," I murmured. "Don't touch me.I'm scared- I need to go away."  
  
Benny looked concerned, and then Mark came over to join us, his camera gripped tightly in his hands. They exchanged some words. Were they talking to me? All I could do was picture Roger running out the door. I see their lips moving, but I catch about every other word.  
  
A Clinic?  
  
A Rehab?  
  
Mimi Marquez in a rehab? No way.  
  
I looked around the loft one last time, my eyes lingering on Roger's empty AZT bottles strewn on the floor.  
  
"Goodbye, Love," I said again, shakily. "Hello, Disease."  
  
Pushing Benny's arm away, I rushed out of the apartment, blinded by tears. 


	2. On the Streets

I'd been walking down the alleyway for a long time, not quite sure of where I was, but it wasn't like I had a place to be anyway.  
  
I stepped into a shallow puddle, splattering my skirt with muddy water.  
  
I was cold. And I was getting sicker.  
  
Wrapping my arms around myself and shivering, I kept walking until the alley way opened up to another street.  
  
There were some older men sitting by the side of the road, sharing a joint with each other. I lowered my eyes and walked past them quickly, trying not to attract attention to myself.  
  
One of them looked up suddenly at my footsteps.  
  
"Hi, Sweets," he said, with a weird smile on his face. "Wanna come over here?"  
  
I ignored him, and walked faster.  
  
"What'sa matter? Cat got your tongue?" the other one shouted, and a bunch of heads turned our way. They started walking towards me.  
  
I began to run, pushing my way through the crowd, oblivious to the furious glares I got as I shoved by. I was about to cross the street when suddenly a car stopped in front of me. The driver rolled down the window.  
  
"Mimi?"  
  
It was my boss, Terry, who worked at the Cat Scratch Club. I realized I was supposed to be there right now.  
  
"Terry, can I get in the car, these two creeps are following me," I pleaded, desperately.  
  
"She's just the right flavor,' one of them wheezed as he approached us.  
  
I looked at Terry, my eyes pleading with him.  
  
Terry nodded. He stuck his head out the window to glare menacingly at them.  
  
"FUCK OFF!" he shouted.  
  
"Jeez Pop, we just wanted a night on the town?"  
  
"Not tonight. Go sober up somewhere else."  
  
For a moment it looked like they were going to challenge him, but Terry was a good foot taller than them, and they decided against it.  
  
"Tease," one of them muttered under his breath. "C'mon, Kip."  
  
And with that they walked away, stumbling into random people in their way.  
  
"Thank you," I whispered, slipping into the front seat beside Terry.  
  
"No problem," he answered. Then he frowned. "Mimi, what the hell happened to you?"  
  
I realized I probably looked like hell. My make-up was running down my face in dark streaks, and my eyes were puffy and red from crying.  
  
"You and Roger fight?"  
  
".Sort of," I said, not in the mood to talk about it.  
  
"Hell, it'll sort itself out. Hey, you're supposed to be working tonight. Want me to drive you?"  
  
Work? Tonight? I could barely stand up straight, and I felt like shit. But then I heard myself murmuring, "Alright," and he shifted gears and turned us around.  
  
I looked out the window, concentrating on not crying.  
  
"You'll have to wash your face," I heard Terry say. "You've got mascara running down your cheeks. We can't have you dancing looking like that, can we?"  
  
I nodded absent-mindedly. My head was pounding, and I felt very tired. Why had I said I'd work tonight? I couldn't, in my condition.  
  
"Here we are," said Terry as we pulled up behind the club. "Go backstage and get dressed. I'll be out in front."  
  
I got out of the car, and shakily and went through the backstage door. 


	3. The Tango Mimi

The next few moments were a blur. I pushed past the other performers who were busily smearing lipstick over their mouths, and making seductive pouts in the mirror.  
  
I stumbled into the bathroom to wash my face off. The cold water felt rejuvenating. I wiped my face on the sleeve of my coat.  
  
I went into the dressing room and slipped into a Gold sparkly top that was cut off just an inch above my navel. Terry's boyfriend, Kirk, had originally designed the outfits so that there was barely anything at all, but Terry convinced him to change it, claiming it was 'TOO revealing."  
  
I'd gotten so thin lately that my stomach was beginning to resemble a hollowed-out cave. I quickly pulled on a tiny matching skirt. I didn't bother to put any make-up one.  
  
"Meems!" Terry called from the front, "Get your ass out here- you're on!"  
  
I ignored the quizzical looks on the other dancers' faces, wondering why the famous Mimi Marquez looked like shit. God. I FELT like shit. I felt a stabbing pain at my temple.  
  
I found myself onstage, along with Eden, who I occasionally danced with, and usually set off a riot with the guys.  
  
"GO." Terry hissed.  
  
I refused to meet anyone's eyes in the crowd. I shakily placed my hand on the pole, preparing to do my usual routine.  
  
But instead of doing that stupid slutty 'dance' that Terry had choreographed for us, I kept clutching the pole, feeling like if I let go, I would never be able to get back up.  
  
I moved clumsily, trying to get in rhythm with Eden. But I was just too tired.  
  
I stumbled around the pole, very aware that all the usual Man-Whores that were in the audience were starting to grumble and complain.  
  
I forced a wobbly smile, unable to think straight.  
  
Eden flashed me a 'What the HELL are you doing?!' look, but I ignored it.  
  
My head hurt like a bitch, and I felt dizzy.  
  
I must have blacked out for a moment, because one moment I was up on stage, with those cheap florescent lights blinding my eyes, and the next everything was dark, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself on the ground, with about a hundred sleazy disgusting men gazing upon me, wondering if this was all part of the act.  
  
I could hear Terry saying ''Scuse me. EXCUSE me!" as he pushed through the crowd.  
  
I stared up at him groggily, trying to place what happened. Terry pulled me up by my upper arms and got me on my feet, yanking me backstage, sitting me down on a lumpy old sofa, stained with beer and reeking of smoke.  
  
"Jeez Mimi, are you alright? Did you hit your head?"  
  
The room stopped spinning, and finally settled.  
  
"I'm alright." I said, meekly. "I'm cold." I wrapped my arms around my bare stomach and shivered.  
  
Terry left the room for a second, and returned with my coat. I wrapped it around my shoulders, burying my face into the worn material.  
  
"I'm taking you to a hospital," he said. "You're really sick, aren't you?"  
  
"Terry, you can't just leave the club. Besides, why make a fuss over me?"  
  
"Meems, you know you're more than just one of my dancers to me. I first hired you when you were fifteen.  
  
That brought a slight smile to my lips. When I'd first run away and had no money and nowhere to sleep, Terry had offered me a job at the Cat Scratch. He was like a brother to me now.  
  
"I was really messed up, wasn't I?"  
  
"Let's just say you've improved. Anyway, Mimi, I've got to get you to a hospital; you're really pale and you just practically fell into some guy's lap up there. Haven't you been taking your AZT?"  
  
I nodded, pulling my knees up to my chest.  
  
"Well, alright, I'll be right back. I'm going to phone the hospital. Be right back." He gave me a peck on my clammy forehead and walked into the next room.  
  
I could hear him talking on the other line, barely making out what he was saying.  
  
"Yeah, it looks really bad.she's H.I.V positive.yes."  
  
I sighed.  
  
I couldn't stay here and be a burden on Terry.  
  
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rose from the sofa, and quietly stepped out of the room. I snuck out the back door, closing it gently behind me.  
  
My eyes lingered on the neon light-up sign in the front window.  
  
'THE CAT SCRATCH CLUB,' it read, 'We'll have you YOWLING for more!"  
  
Underneath it was a claw. It'd never occurred to me how corny and lame it was before.  
  
Taking one final look behind me, I turned and started to walk down the street. I knew I was getting weaker every day.  
  
I wondered if Roger was wondering where I was right now.  
  
Well, pretty soon I'd no longer be part of his baggage, I thought, trudging along, with tears streaming down my face.  
  
I didn't look back. 


	4. Man with a Squeegee

For a long time I wandered down some random street, aimlessly. I vaguely remembered walking down here when I'd first come into the city, when I'd first moved in below Roger and Mark's apartment.  
  
I didn't own a watch, but considering there were few people on the street besides me, and it was pretty dark, I guessed that it was around eleven.  
  
I wondered if Mark and Benny were looking for me. I shrugged my hands into the deep pockets of my coat. There wasn't a chance that I was going to go back to the loft tonight.  
  
If I went back at all.  
  
I found a park that was pretty empty, give or take a few crazy homeless people slithering around in the middle of the night, just waiting for some unsuspecting person to walk their way.  
  
I was too tired to care. I settled down on a damp bench and lay down on my side. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my coat around myself. I shivered, gazing up at the stars. I bet that Mark would love to film this: Close on Mimi Marquez, passed out on a bench in Central Park in the middle of the night.  
  
The spot between my eyes felt like someone was whacking away at my head with a hammer. I shut my eyes tightly, ignoring the sounds of screeching cars and occasional obscene comments from the drivers.  
  
Slowly, I drifted off into sleep.  
  
That next morning, I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head up to gaze sleepily around me. I pushed my curls out of my eyes, finding, with annoyance, that they were damp. It must have rained last night. I most have REALLY been out if I slept through the rain.  
  
I heard some shuffling on the bench beside me, and I turned to see a disheveled looking guy in a huge overcoat, grasping a squeegee tightly in his hands. He was staring at me.  
  
Christ, had he been watching me sleep?  
  
His face broke out into a scarily friendly smile.  
  
"Honest Living," he offered.  
  
"No thanks," I muttered, swinging my knees over the side of the bench, and shakily standing to my feet.  
  
So much for keeping warm. The rain water had drenched my coat and seeped through my clothes from the Cat Scratch. My skin was cold like ice. "It's cold," the man said, trying to be helpful.  
  
"Is it?" I yanked off my coat, which was about ten times heavier, due to all that rainwater,  
  
The Squeegee man stared blankly at my skanky outfit, un-phased.  
  
"You need clothes," he said. He was stating a fact, not asking.  
  
"I suppose I do," I said stupidly, looking down at myself.  
  
"Here. They warm." He said, thrusting a bundle into my hand. "Keep you warm."  
  
In my arms he'd placed a pair of old ripped leg warmers, an old sweater, and a scarf. I sat, shocked, clutching the knit scarf tightly in my hands.  
  
"Where'd you find this?" I asked, examining them. They almost looked new, aside from the tear in the leg warmers.  
  
He smiled. "Big Woman on St. Anthony's. Give clothes to people."  
  
"You mean you stole them?"  
  
He shrugged.  
  
I pulled the sweater over my head, and slipped on the leg warmers. I still felt cold, but that was probably more because I had a temperature.  
  
"Thank you," I said, breathlessly. I picked my wet coat off the ground and fumbled around in the pockets until I found a couple of damp singles. I held them out to him, but he pushed my arms away.  
  
"No need money. You wear clothes. I happy giving." He grinned widely, revealing a surprisingly straight set of yellowed teeth.  
  
I thanked him again, wishing I had something of value that he would accept.  
  
"I leave," he pointed to a spot past my shoulder. "Hot dog vender. Not looking. You want hot dog?"  
  
"No thanks," I said, humored by him. "I'm a vegetarian."  
  
He shrugged again, and sauntered off in the direction in which a tiny hot dog stand was set up. Indeed, no one was keeping it in order at the moment.  
  
I decided to find someplace cheap where I could get something decent to eat for ten bucks. Tossing my dampened coat over my shoulder, I walked past the brass gates, eyeing all the names of the little restaurants lining the sidewalks, trying to decide which would be cheapest.  
  
As I left the park, I could hear the incoherent shrieking of some poor, robbed hot dog Vendor, and the Squeegee man screeching madly with laughter behind me. 


	5. The Tango Mimi Continued

It took me only a few seconds to find a cheap little restaurant called 'Eggs 'n' Bakin'' soon after I left the park.  
  
I settled down into a green cushy seat at the counter, and stared blankly at the menu on the bulletin board on the wall. Pretty much everything was more than I could afford.  
  
I ended up just asking the waiter for a glass of cold water.  
  
"No problem," he said. "Hey, Karl! Bring me a glass of ice water, will ya?"  
  
"'Kay, Dad." I heard some rustling in the back, and then out emerged a handsome young man, who looked about the same age as me, came holding the water tightly in his hand.  
  
"Here ya go," he said, smiling. He had dirty blonde ruffled hair, and light blue eyes. For some cheap waiter, he was pretty cute.  
  
"Thanks," I managed a weak smile. He winked at me and returned to the back.  
  
A few moments passed, and suddenly I had to go to the bathroom.  
  
"Excuse me," I said, as Karl's dad walked by. "Is there a bathroom here I could use?"  
  
He set down his tray and pointed with a long stubby finger, the direction in which I could find a bathroom.  
  
"Go through that back door, and make a left, there's a short little alleyway, and at the end there's a door that's marked 'Storage,' but just ignore it. There's a bathroom in there."  
  
"Thanks," I said, getting up from my seat. The cold water had made my head feel a little better, but now it was making its way down to my bladder.  
  
I went through the back door just like he'd told me, and soon I found the little room marked 'Storage.' I went in, relieved myself, washed my hands with some cheap face-wash soap stashed under the sink, and wiped my hands on the sweater the Squeegee man had given me.  
  
On the way out of the bathroom, I smacked into some huge guy who had also been waiting to use the toilet.  
  
"Well, well," a familiar voice chortled. My heart stopped.  
  
"Why, don't you remember me sweets?"  
  
Sure, I remembered him. It was on of the two guys who'd been following me last night on the street. Kip, or Kirk, or something like that.  
  
I panicked, backing away from him until my back was against the cold brick wall of the alley.  
  
"You forgot to give me something yesterday."  
  
Before I could say anything, he had both of my wrists grasped in one of his hands, and he clamped his disgusting mouth over mine, his tongue forcing his way in.  
  
I gasped for breath, and struggled to free from his grasp.  
  
"It's not so bad, is it?" he rasped.  
  
His breath stank of beer and god knows what else what.  
  
I turned my head towards the wall, so I wouldn't have to smell it.  
  
He reached out his hand and gripped my chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"I've seen you before," he wheezed. "You're one of those whores from the Cat Scratch, aren't you? I'm surprised that you'd be trying to get away. They used to tie you up.'  
  
Before he could get anymore out, I spat into his face, which was shiny and greasy with sweat.  
  
My spit hit him right between the eyes.  
  
His eyebrows furrowed in anger. I pushed myself back against the wall, trying to put as much distance between the too of us as possible.  
  
"You didn't have to do that, bitch," he growled. With that, the back of his hand rammed into my face, causing the side of my head to bang against the brick wall.  
  
I saw stars. My knees buckled violently, but he held my upper arms tightly, preventing me from falling over. Groaning with disgust, he shoved me carelessly onto the floor.  
  
My head throbbed, and my cheek stung from where he'd hit me.  
  
"Bitch," he hissed again, the steel toe of his boot crashing into my side.  
  
For a moment, his mood toward me changed, and he ran his greasy fingers through my hair. I whimpered, and he stood up and faced the other wall, trying to quickly undo his belt.  
  
Oh, God, not here. Not NOW.  
  
He hovered over me, trying to wrestle my skirt off. Gathering up my strength, I kneed him as hard as I could in the crotch.  
  
He let out a murderous howl, and doubled over in pain. He kicked me in the side again, as if to get even.  
  
I let out a yelp of pain, but it only came out as a squeak. His face was full of rage, and for a moment I thought he was going to really kill me.  
  
"What the hell's going on back there???' Karl's voice rang out.  
  
I heard his footsteps moving toward us.  
  
"Jesus,' said, when he saw me huddled on the ground.  
  
"Get lost, bud," Kip growled. "This is between me and her."  
  
Karl must have seen the fear in my eyes, because at that moment he came rushing towards Kip, and pushed him off me with all his strength.  
  
I turned away, closing my eyes, trying to block out the noise, but I could still hear the sickening sound of fist against flesh. I prayed the fist was Karl's. There was a storm of cursing too.  
  
A few moments later, I gathered up the courage to look over my shoulder, and saw Kip walking away furiously, nursing a bloody nose. He gave me one more frightening glare, and turned to leave.  
  
Karl knelt down beside me. "You okay?" he said, pushing my hair back to examine a bruise on my cheek.  
  
Suddenly, I yearned for Roger to be with me. The tears started to fall, and I sobbed uncontrollably into a complete stranger's shoulder. Karl didn't seem to mind. He patted me on the back silently, and waited until my tears were done.  
  
"Do you need a place to stay tonight?" he asked. He was staring at the clothes the Squeegee man had given me. He probably thought I was homeless. I suppose in a way, I was.  
  
I nodded wiping my tears on the back of my sleeve.  
  
"Hey, you can sleep on my couch tonight, if you want. I've got an apartment right above the restaurant, since my old man owns it." He held out his hand to me.  
  
"Okay," I whispered, placing my hand into his.  
  
"You can take a shower and get cleaned up, once we get upstairs," he said.  
  
"I could take a look at your head too. It looks like he hit you hard."  
  
I shuddered, and nodded, folding my arms under my chest.  
  
"I'm Karl." He smiled.  
  
"I'm Mimi."  
  
"Mimi. I like it. It's simple. Well, come on, Mimi, you look like you could use a nap."  
  
He didn't know half of it.  
  
I allowed him to help me to my feet, and escort me up to his apartment.  
  
And all the while I kept wishing that Roger was here with me. 


	6. An Angel in Disguise

Karl led me up a narrow staircase, holding his arm out to steady me. My sides were aching and my head stubbornly had begun to throb again.  
  
After a few moments we stood in front of the front door of Karl's apartment. He fished around in his pocket and retrieved a key from his pocket. It had a neon green rabbit's foot key-chain dangling from it.  
  
"Superstitious?" I asked, trying to bring a little humor to the awkward situation we were in.  
  
"Naw," he said, fiddling the key around in the lock and pushing the door open. "Just a little something my girlfriend gave to me."  
  
My eyebrow rose at the world 'girlfriend.' If he had a girlfriend, why was he picking up random girls and taking them up to his apartment?  
  
"There's the sofa," he pointed. "I've never tried sleeping on it, so I don't know how comfy it'll be.but it's better than nothing."  
  
"Thank you," I repeated. I sat down on the couch, and a jab of pain seared through my chest. I winced.  
  
Karl saw the look on my face.  
  
"If you want, I can take a look," he offered. "My mom's a doctor."  
  
He didn't really seem the type to lie. But I still was suspicious. "Where's your mom now?" I asked, quizzically.  
  
"She left when I was fifteen. She considered my dad and old bum, and instead of finishing up med school, she worked with him here.so I guess you can imagine what she ended up thinking of him."  
  
"Yeah." my voice trailed off, as I studied his apartment. It reminded me a lot of Roger's. Messy, unorganized.  
  
"Hey, I can understand you not being comfortable, especially after what just happened." He swallowed. "Or what I think was ABOUT to happen."  
  
"It's alright." I assured him. Besides, hundreds of guys at the club had already seen me half-naked. And I WAS pretty banged up.  
  
I sighed, and rolled up my sweater, so it was just above my ribs.  
  
He studied my stomach carefully, pressing with his hands and telling me to tell him what hurt. When he pressed the area to the left of my belly button, where Kip had kicked me, I gasped in pain.  
  
Karl took his hands away quickly. "I'm sorry," he apologized, nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
'It's okay," I whispered. "It just hurts when I breathe."  
  
"Well, from what I can tell, you don't have any broken ribs or anything like that, but by tomorrow you'll probably be sporting a few black and blue marks." He glanced at the gash on my cheek. "You want me to clean that up?"  
  
I nodded. He got up to leave for the medicine cabinet.  
  
"Can you bring a couple of Aspirin too?" I called after him, "My head's killing me."  
  
"Sure," he called back.  
  
I heard him rustling in the cabinet, and a few moments later he returned with some Peroxide, a bottle of Aspirin, and a glass of water.  
  
"I'll do it," I said reaching for the bottle of Peroxide. Not knowing it was open, my hand bumped into it to roughly, and it fell on its side. The liquid began to drip on the wooden floor.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"It's fine," he said, grabbing a Kleenex and wiping the floor off. "Happens all the time." He flashed me a cheesy grin. I wondered if he was maybe a year younger than me.  
  
He handed me the bottle of water, but I refused his offer, and just swallowed my pills dry. I did that with my AZT a lot too, though Roger always told me I shouldn't.  
  
"So," he said after he'd cleaned the cut on my cheek. "How'd you end up here? You look like you're sixteen."  
  
"I get that all the time," I said, agitated. "I'm twenty."  
  
"Really?" He looked surprised.  
  
I gave him a long, tired stare, and he held up his hands. "Sorry," he said, with a small smile on his face. "Wanna tell me your story?"  
  
"Well, first of all." I began, cringing slightly. I always hated this part of the introduction. "I'm H.I.V positive." Karl didn't even blink when I said that. I was surprised.  
  
"I live with my boyfriend Roger on the corner of Avenue A and B. We got into a fight, and he ran off, and then I just left the loft. I needed to have some time to myself for a while."  
  
Karl sat with his fingers clasped together in his lap. He looked intrigued.  
  
"On the way I ran into yours truly downstairs." I motioned to the bruise on my face, "And my boss, Terry. He asked me if I was going to work that night, and I was sort of out of it.so I told him yes. So he drove me to work."  
  
"Where you do you work?" he inquired.  
  
I lifted my head up from the couch I'd just made my new home on. I felt like he was a therapist and I was telling him my life story.which I was.  
  
"I'm a dancer at the Cat Scratch Club," I said, simply. "Terry found me when I was fifteen, and had no money and no place to live. He offered me a job."  
  
He nodded slowly, motioning for me to go on.  
  
"So.last night, I didn't feel too hot, so I left the club early." I didn't feel like explaining to him about me being sick. ".And I didn't want to go back to the loft, so I slept on a bench in the park. Then I came in to your restaurant, then I ran into my old friend down there.and well, here I am today." I through out my hands.  
  
He smiled. "Well, your life's a lot more interesting than mine. My life basically began when I was fifteen, after my mom left, and I was stuck working here. I didn't go to college and so." he copied the motion I'd done with my hands. "Here I am today."  
  
I laughed. It made my sides hurt, but it felt good to laugh again.  
  
"So, who's your girlfriend?" I asked, curiously.  
  
"Sharon? Well, sometimes I consider her my girlfriend.during the times she's not bitching to me about getting a REAL job.which isn't that often. Last week she said we should 'See other people.'"  
  
I sat silently after he'd finished, not knowing what to say. Karl broke the silence.  
  
"So," he said, "You want me to run downstairs and grab you something to eat? My dad won't mind, I rarely take my work time off."  
  
"Okay." I said slowly. "But first, can I take a shower?"  
  
Karl let me borrow one of his robes, so I slipped that on once I'd stepped out of the shower, and wrapped another towel around my head. I dried myself off and put my clothes back on, and walked back into the living room.  
  
Karl had been waiting for me, reading a copy of 'The New Yorker."  
  
"I'll go grab something for you to eat," he said, pushing the magazine aside. "Alright?"  
  
"Yes," I said, and he started towards the door.  
  
"Karl?"  
  
He stopped.  
  
"Thank you.for helping me, I mean."  
  
Karl smiled. "Ain't nothing to it." And with that he slipped out the door.  
  
Once he was gone I sighed, and plopped down on the couch. It hadn't occurred to me how tired I was from the events of the day. I unraveled the quilt at one end of the couch, curled up into a ball, and threw the blanket over myself. By the time Karl came back with the food, I was fast asleep. 


	7. Late Afternoon

I slept through that night and all the way through the afternoon the next morning. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a pair of red flashing lights screaming '12:15' at me. An alarm clock.  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
I sat up, ignoring my aching sides, and looked around me.  
  
I was in Karl's bedroom.  
  
Confused, I slipped on a bathrobe that was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, and padded barefoot into the living room, where I found Karl resting on the couch.  
  
He must have sense my presence, because his eyes snapped open when I walked in.  
  
"Morning." He said, stretching his arms out in front of him. "I thought you'd never wake up."  
  
Still confused, I asked carefully, "Karl.did we.?"  
  
"Did we what?"  
  
"Well.I woke up in your bedroom."  
  
Karl laughed. "God no, Mimi! When I found you asleep here I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in a bed, so I brought you into my room, that's all."  
  
His eyes shone with laughter.  
  
"What'd you think? We did it?"  
  
"Well.what was I supposed to think?"  
  
"Okay, I see your point,' he giggled, and settled down. "You hungry?"  
  
I shook my head, no.  
  
"Alright umm.wanna go outside for a bit? I've been waiting for you to get up all day."  
  
"You could have just left me up here," I protested, "I would have been fine."  
  
"Nah, I can't leave a strange woman alone in a strange apartment, now, can I?" he joked. "C'mon, get dressed. You look like you could use a bit of fresh air."  
  
Fresh air wasn't exactly what I needed. But I didn't tell Karl that.  
  
A few moments later, after having bundled myself up in both some of Karl's old clothes and the ones the man in the park had given me, Karl and I sat in central park, watching a group of pigeons peck at a bread crust someone had thrown at them.  
  
Karl had bought me a cup of coffee. I held it tightly in my hands. I didn't drink any of it, I just liked to feel the warmth of it.  
  
For a while we just sat, taking small sips of coffee and staring blankly at the pigeons, neither one of us saying anything.  
  
Finally, I broke the ice.  
  
"Roger must be really worried about me," I said, almost hopefully. I knew in truth that Roger could be in Santa Fe right now, not even giving a thought to my well being.  
  
"Maybe,' Karl said. He was quiet for a moment. "I wish me and Sharon were close like you and your boyfriend are. Most of the conversations we have only involve her, what she needs, what she wants." He paused and stared ahead, obliviously.  
  
"She's going out with my brother now."  
  
"You're BROTHER?" I exclaimed, more surprised by the fact that he had a brother than by the fact that he was sleeping with his girlfriend. It didn't startle me that much. At the Cat Scratch, we had brother and sister couples coming in together. It was nothing new.  
  
"Yeah," he said, miserably. "Somehow he managed to get a job other than being a waiter. He's studying to be a doctor, like my mom."  
  
More silence.  
  
"I haven't seen my mom in five years," I said quietly. "I tried calling her once, but they'd moved, and the people who owned the apartment didn't know their new location."  
  
"I'm sorry," Karl said softly, and he really did look sorry.  
  
"It's not like I was ever really close to either of my parents," I continued, "My real Dad died when I was a kid. My stepfather, Joel, married my mom when I was ten. God, I HATE him." I fumbled my fingers around inside my sleeves, fidgeting nervously.  
  
"When my mom wasn't around, he used to treat me and my sister like shit. He was never violent towards her, though. Only towards me. And that's when neither my mom or sister were around."  
  
"Were you and your sister close?"  
  
"Me and Isabella? Yeah, people mistook us for twins sometimes," I said, smiling at the memory. "Even though she was five years older."  
  
Isabella had just turned twenty-five, wherever she was. Just two years older than Roger.  
  
"Why did you leave?" he asked.  
  
"How'd you know I left?" I said, suspiciously.  
  
"You told me you first got work when you were fifteen. Most girls wouldn't need to be working in a place like that, unless they were desperate."  
  
I cringed at the words, 'A place like that.' Karl saw the look.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mimi, I didn't mean it like that-"  
  
"No, you're right," I said simply, "No NORMAL girl were ever work as a stripper, right?"  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, in an almost pathetic tone of voice.  
  
I sighed, and placed my chin in my hands. Suddenly, I felt really tired and weak.  
  
"Look, forget it okay? Can we go back up to your apartment? I'm really tired."  
  
Karl gave me a weird look. "Mimi, you slept all night last night and all through the afternoon, practically. Are you sure that guy didn't do any damage besides bruising you up?"  
  
"No.I've just been sick lately. Well, it wasn't a total lie.  
  
"I just really wanna lie down for a while."  
  
"Fine." He tossed his empty coffee cup into a nearby trashcan. He slipped his hand in mine, and I wondered if it was a friendly or loving gesture. I was too exhausted to think about it at the moment. Trailing behind him, I went with back inside the store; I walked quickly, still worried that Kip might have come back.  
  
When we got to his apartment, I walked right passed him, and practically collapsed onto the sofa.  
  
Karl stood over me, looking worried.  
  
"You're really not fine, are you?" he said. 


	8. Unpleasant Surprise

I talked. Karl listened.  
  
I told him about how I'd been sick for a long time now. That I was probably dying.  
  
Karl began to pick at his fingernails, anxiously.  
  
"Have you gone to a doctor?" he asked, quietly.  
  
"No," I whispered. "They can't do anything more for me. If anything, have me stuck in the hospital for the rest of the time I have left.and I'm not sure I want that."  
  
Karl bit his lip, and his eyebrows knitted themselves into a frown.  
  
"Mimi.you can't just give up on this. You need to get help."  
  
"I can." I said firmly. "And I am."  
  
Karl rose up from his seat, and began to pace back and forth.  
  
"Damn it, Mimi!" he cried, "You CAN'T give up!"  
  
I watched him walk back and forth across the living room, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.  
  
Finally, after a few moments of silence passed, he sat back down beside me.  
  
"Aren't you scared?" he asked, his eyes pained.  
  
"A little," I admitted, "But I mean, ever since I found out I was positive, I knew I was gonna die sometime sooner or later."  
  
Right. I was lying through my teeth. Truth was, I was scared out of my mind. I wasn't ready to go, to leave my family, my friends.to leave Roger. Suddenly, I missed Roger terribly. I wished he was here to comfort me.  
  
I sniffed, and swiped at my eye with my sleeve.  
  
"Mimi," Karl tried again, taking my hand in his. "Please, let me take you to a hospital, there's gotta be something they can do to help you, if only- "  
  
"There ISN'T!" I snapped, pushing his hand away. "You know the drill, Karl. You find out you're H.I.V positive, and right at that moment, you know you're dead. Suddenly you start to wonder what all the past few years were for. And where did they get you?" I threw out my hands. "NOTHING. I AM nothing, Karl, I." and then I broke off, as tears began to spill over the rims of my eyes.  
  
Karl's mood suddenly changed.  
  
"Hey," he whispered, pulling me towards him. "It'll be alright Mimi, you'll get through this. There's got to be someway."  
  
I knew he had no idea what he was talking about, but I credited him for trying to help.  
  
I sniveled into his shoulder.  
  
"I don't want to die, Karl," I whispered.  
  
"Me neither," he whispered back.  
  
I untangled myself from his arms.  
  
"What?" I said, wiping my eyes on my hand.  
  
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I'm just tired. Mimi."  
  
He leaned his head in towards me, trying to kiss me.  
  
I ducked my head out of the way. He stopped, frowning.  
  
"Karl, I can't," I sighed, "Roger."  
  
"I thought you said Roger was gone, Mimi," Karl said, standing up.  
  
"I love him," I whispered.  
  
He sighed. He folded his arms and faced the opposite wall.  
  
"When Sharon left.I just sort of stayed up here for a few weeks. I really loved her. She would never believe me, but it's true."  
  
He sat on the windowsill to face me. "When she left, I just felt like there was no more point in living. I even considered taking my own life, so I wouldn't have to suffer anymore. My father finally started to realize how bad off I was, and one day he convinced me to come downstairs to work, to take my mind off things."  
  
He looked up at me. "That was the day I met you, Mimi."  
  
I fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch, looking down at the floor.  
  
Karl let out a loud sigh, and turned towards me. "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit," he said.  
  
"Okay," I said softly.  
  
He turned without another word, and headed off into the direction of his bedroom.  
  
I sat in Karl's living room for a while, with the TV turned on low. I flipped blankly through all the channels, not particularly stopping for anything. Finally, I gave up, tossing the remote onto the couch.  
  
I wondered if I should check to see if Karl was okay. He'd been pretty upset.  
  
I walked down to his bedroom door, and knocked softly. No one answered the door. I figured he was still asleep.  
  
I pushed the door open silently, and closed it behind me. I walked over to the bed, where Karl was sprawled out under the covers, his chest rising and falling slowly. My eyes wandered over to his shoulders, and down his arms, and-  
  
I thought I was seeing things. I kneeled down beside the bed and examined his arm.  
  
I couldn't believe it. There were track marks starting from the inside of his elbow up to halfway up his upper arm.  
  
I blinked, not wanting to believe what I was seeing. But when I opened my eyes, the marks were still there.  
  
So that's why Karl had said he didn't want to die either, I thought. He was dying too.  
  
Slowly, I got up off my knees and closed the door behind me again.  
  
I picked my coat up from the floor, and went into the kitchen to fish a piece of scrap paper from the drawer.  
  
Karl,  
  
Went outside for a walk. Be back in a short while.  
  
Then, after debating with myself for a few moments, I quickly etched at the bottom:  
  
You should have told me. -Mimi  
  
I stuck the note to his bedroom door, buttoned up my coat, and went downstairs. 


	9. Another Time, Another Place

After debating on whether I should take a walk somewhere that I am familiar with and risk running into someone I know, or walking somewhere I don't know and risk getting lost, I finally decided to just go to the park again.  
  
I felt like I hadn't had any fresh air in days. Karl's apartment was so stuffy and hot, it could make you feel like that.  
  
Testing my strength, I walked the whole length of the park once, finding solace in the outdoors.  
  
When I got back to where I started, I plopped down on a nearby bench. I was sweating a lot, something I usually never do unless I'm under the bright lights when I'm working. I breathed heavily, and took off my coat. My body' temperature was really fucked up lately. Suddenly, I heard a voice from behind me.  
  
"Hello!"  
  
I jumped.  
  
I turned to see who it was. It was the man with the Squeegee.  
  
"Oh, it's just you," I said, wondering if he had been following me.  
  
"Honest Living," he replied, cheerfully. He glanced down at me.  
  
"You wearing the clothes." He smiled.  
  
"What? Oh, yeah.thank you again for giving them to me."  
  
"You is much welcome." He motioned to the restaurant where Karl and his Dad worked.  
  
"You with nice man?"  
  
"Karl? Yes, he's a very nice man." I'd almost forgotten about what I'd seen earlier.  
  
"He not bad man? You with other bad man before."  
  
"How did you know about that?" I demanded. He was starting to creep me about a bit.  
  
He smiled, and pointed to his head. "I know. I SEE."  
  
To my surprise, he picked up my hand in his warm gloved one.  
  
"You stay with nice man. Be happy."  
  
"Thank you," I said, forcing a smile. "We'll see, won't we?"  
  
He nodded, and gave my hand a pat. He tipped his felted snow cap.  
  
"Feliz Navidad!" he said.  
  
"Muchos Gracias," I said, smiling.  
  
"Tener un dia simpatico."  
  
The Squeegee man seemed overjoyed when I began to speak to him in Spanish. He raced down the pathway, squealing 'Feliz Navidad!' to everyone he saw walking along on it. He nearly tipped over an elderly woman in a wheelchair.  
  
Shaking my head and laughing, I leaned against the arm of the bench. It felt as if my laughter was wearing me out.  
  
I'd just lie down for a few moments.  
  
***************  
  
When I woke up, it was morning.  
  
"Shit," I cursed, scrambling to my feet.  
  
Karl was probably going nuts with worry.  
  
I rushed out of the park and across the street as fast as I could, and burst through the door, surprised to find an empty room.  
  
Karl's father sat at one of the tables with his hands folded in his lap, his back turned toward me.  
  
"Mr. Larson?" I called softly.  
  
He didn't turn around.  
  
I frowned. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, I know I must have worried you."  
  
Still no reply.  
  
"Well.I'm going to go upstairs to let Karl know I'm here."  
  
"Don't." he said, before I could reach the first step.  
  
I stopped.  
  
"Why not?" I asked, nervously.  
  
He turned to me and held out his hand, in which a sheet of paper was grasped tightly.  
  
I took it out of his hand gently, and began to unfold it.  
  
"Read it thoroughly. Then I'd think it best that you leave."  
  
I unfolded the letter and read to myself;  
  
Mimi,  
  
When Sharon left me, I didn't think there was anything to live for. I wouldn't come downstairs to eat or work, I couldn't fall asleep at nights. My father would literally have to throw me out of bed to get me to get up And take a shower. All that changed when I met you. I know have seen the Marks on my arm. The reason Sharon left me wasn't because she thought I needed to make a better life for herself. It was because she had found out I'd given her A.I.D.S. I didn't want to live with myself anymore, knowing That because of me, an innocent person was going to die. The day you walked  
  
Into our restaurant was the day I was planning to take my own life. I was Going to do it after my shift, so not to make my father suspicious than if I Had left in the middle of it. You're bravery amazes me. You know you have Very little time you live, yet instead of running away from it, you embrace it. However, I'm not as brave as you. I'd rather leave on my own, rather than Have God take me before I'm expecting it. Always consider me close to Your heart. We may not have had something in this life, but perhaps I'll Meet you in the next. It's a comforting thought to think that I'm going to be up There, among the stores. Smile, Mimi. While you still can.  
  
Karl  
  
The last sentence was blurry. The letter slipped out of my trembling fingers. Turned to Karl's father, wanting him to comfort me and tell me that it was just a mistake. He met my gaze and held it for a moment, and then buried his face into his sleeve, sobbing quietly. He got up from the chair and went upstairs slowly. I heard a door close sharply behind him.  
  
I concentrated on the spot where he'd just been, trying to make myself believe that he hadn't been there at all, that I'd just imagined this whole thing.  
  
But then I lowered my eyes to the ground, where Karl's letter lay, crumpled and dead, just like him, on the ground.  
  
I took one last look around me, trying to steady my own shaking.  
  
And then I ran. 


	10. A Guardian Angel

Cold. I was cold.  
  
I ran down the street, pushing past the crowd, not headed in any particular direction.  
  
I must have looked like a fucking lunatic, running down the street, crying. A lot of people looked up, concerned. But this was New York. Who cares?  
  
Finally, out of breath from running, I made my way to the park, which was beginning to become my second home.  
  
I collapsed onto a bench and sobbed.  
  
"Jesus, Karl," I cried, through my tears, "Why did you have to do it?"  
  
I made a fist and pounded it into the arm of the bench. My knuckles cracked and bled.  
  
Ignoring the pain, I curled onto my side and let my tears run over the rusty metal.  
  
I looked out of the corner of my eye, trying to find the Squeegee Man, who crazy as he was, was a comfort to me.  
  
I sat there for a long time. A tear dripped off my nose.  
  
I waited.  
  
He didn't come. Yet another person was lost to me.  
  
"You okay, Miss?"  
  
I looked up, half hoping that it was him. But I knew even before I looked up that it wasn't.  
  
An elderly man peered at me from under a hood, looking concerned.  
  
"I'm fine," I muttered. I stood to my feet, and quickly began to walk. I didn't know where I was going. But I just didn't care anymore.  
  
I shivered and snuggled further into my coat. My head was hurting again, and my throat and stomach ached from crying.  
  
Finally, exhausted, I plopped down onto my knees.  
  
I knew I was giving in, but I didn't give a damn. I wasn't stupid. I knew that sooner or later my disease would conquer me.  
  
I lowered my head gently onto the hard ground, and closed my eyes and dreamed,  
  
I was sprawled on my back, my face turned toward the sky, and rain pounding down on top of me.  
  
Kip appeared.  
  
"Whore," he growled, and reached out towards me.  
  
I tried to make a sound, but I couldn't move my lips.  
  
Suddenly, he disappeared.  
  
He was replaced by a tall slender figure, sitting with his legs crossed on the ground beside me. He was examining his nails.  
  
I knew him.I knew HER.  
  
"Angel?" I choked, finding my voice.  
  
She dropped her hand and slid it into the pocket of her red overcoat.  
  
"Hey, hon. I've missed you."  
  
I gaped at her.  
  
She snuggled over towards me and slipped my hand through hers.  
  
"Don't give up now, Meems. There's so many people who care about you, so many people worrying about you right now."  
  
"Not Roger," I blurted out, "He hates me now."  
  
A sad look came across Angel's face. She shook her head.  
  
"Honey, you've got it all wrong. The boy's still crazy about you. He misses you. Right now he's thinking about you the same thing that you're thinking about him. Damn." She shook her head, "Straight couples are just plain strange."  
  
"And what about you Angel?"  
  
She frowned. "What about me?"  
  
You gave up. And Collins loved you.  
  
"Mimi, honey, what you two have is special. It's not ready to die yet." She sighed. "It was my time to go though. Sometimes we just can't help ourselves."  
  
She got to her feet, and pulled me up.  
  
"Go back home, Meems. I promise it'll be alright." She pecked me on the cheek.  
  
"Oh, and. . . give Collins a kiss for me, 'kay hon?"  
  
"Okay," I whispered.  
  
Suddenly, everything began to fade. Angel disappeared.  
  
"Mimi?"  
  
I opened my eyes, finding myself on the cold concrete ground.  
  
"Roger?" I whimpered.  
  
Suddenly, the face peering above me disorientated and transformed into Maureen.  
  
"Oh, God," she said quietly. "Pookie, come here! It's Mimi!"  
  
Joanne appeared beside Maureen, and I felt a sudden warmth that I'd missed ever since I left the loft.  
  
"Roger?" I said, looking around to see if he was show up too.  
  
"We'll take you to Roger, Honey. God., here Pookie, help me lift her up."  
  
The two of them gently lifted me of the ground, supporting my weight between the two of them.  
  
Tired, I rested my head against Maureen's shoulder, beginning to drift off.  
  
Angel's words rang in my ears.  
  
"What you two have is special. It's not ready to die yet."  
  
A small smile escaped my lips.  
  
"Everything's gonna turn out fine, Hon."  
  
And I believed.  
  
No Day But Today! :-D 


End file.
